Sunday, August 10, 2008

Oh hell! I'm sleeping my days away and i can't seem to get myself out of bed, haven't touched a pencil for months and i can't bring myself to do anything about that or anything else, it's like i'm in the cellar of a house with a fire in the attic rapidly eating its way down, and i'm doing nothing to get out even though i easily could...or could i? If only when lying in bed i looked like her, up there, then things might solve themselves. But an oaf like me must make it happen, damn it! Why wasn't i just born a cat?!

Welcome!

"Music for a while shall all your cares beguile, wond'ring how your pains were eas'd, and disdaining to be pleas'd, till Alecto free the Dead from their eternal band. till the Snakes drop from her Head, and the whip from out her hand"